


Dinner Thoughts (5+1)

by PeachGO3



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Domestic Avengers, Five Times, Food, Friendship, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 10:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18497476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachGO3/pseuds/PeachGO3
Summary: Five times the Original Six went eating out to one member’s liking, and one time they didn’t.





	1. Shawarmas

**Author's Note:**

> To cope with me being exactly 0.00% ready to let these characters go, I wrote something in reminiscence of 2012’s Domestic Avengers and the team coming together. Enjoy ♡

When they had defeated the Chitauri, when they had saved New York City, when they had _won_ – Tony insisted on visiting that Shawarma joint down the street ere they did anything else. They tied Loki up and left him with Nick Fury, who would contain him until his brother was ready to take him back to Asgard. To space. It was all too much for Tony. He needed ground under his feet and some good food. Hopefully this Shawarma stuff would be good.

“How are they not closed?” Clint asked when they stood in front of the little restaurant. Their sign was totally destroyed, as were the windows. The owner, a small dark-haired man, went outside. “It’s you,” he just said and waved them in. Tony shrugged and went first. “He recognized us,” he said to the big guy, Thor, who placed his hammer next to the door. Cap did the same with his shield.

The restaurant was small and cozy, there were black and white photos of New York City on the walls, and the lamps that still functioned painted everything in a soft, warm light. “Are you open for business?” Tony asked the man while he eyed another one, who gave the muddy floor a sweep. The window’s flinders were all over the place. “For the Avengers, we’re always open,” the man smiled and pointed to a table with six small chairs around it.

“Great,” said Tony and sat down.

“We could help you clean up,” Natasha offered, but the man smiled tiredly and declined. “You have done enough. I’ll spring for six set meals, one for each of you.”

They murmured a quiet ‘thank you’ and sat down at the table where Tony had already sprawled his limbs. “I’ve heard only good about your establishment, sir.”

“We’re happy to hear that,” the owner said as he prepared the kitchen. Tony’s fellow teammates weren’t as loosened. Steve looked discouraged. Tony huffed. “C’mon, people,” he said, “we won! Let’s celebrate that!”

“Tony, I’m not sure it’s time for partying,” said Bruce, looking around.

“Not ‘partying’, geez, just enjoying a well-earned meal,” Tony smiled. Natasha stood up and helped the other employee sweep, and soon everyone was helping to clean up. Steve and Thor could lift the heavy debris outside the restaurant without any problems.

Soon after that, their meals were ready. Soda and Shawarmas and fries. “Sir,” Tony said, “this pita bread is exquisite.”

The man smiled. He did the dishes, but he seemed strangely absent. As everyone seemed. Tony turned to the table again.

Steve didn’t eat anything. Thor ate, but he, too, was silent. Natasha and Clint shared their chairs. Bruce chewed and muttered a silent ‘it’s good’ in Tony’s direction, and Tony nodded. They ate in silence and listened to the noises of traffic and people outside. The man had turned the sign to ‘closed’, so nobody would come inside. It was silent, but somehow the awkwardness Tony had felt began to merge into something different, something calmer. Comfort.

Suddenly, Thor bate a big junk of his Shawarma, and said, mouth full: “This was a good idea.” Clint and Natasha smiled at each other and nodded. “Not only,” Thor continued after swallowing, “does this taste quite nice – for a Midgardian meal – after a demanding battle like this, but dining together with one’s fellow comrades is a sign of great companionship.”

“You know,” Steve sighed and finally lifted his head, “Thor is right about that. We’re getting along better now than before.”

“You could even say we’re a team,” Natasha smirked.

“’Team’ sounds nice,” Thor said with a grin to everybody around. Tony smiled weakly as he stared at his fries. ‘Team’. The Avengers. Maybe even ‘friends’? He blinked when Bruce offered him the rest of his fries, but Thor was quicker to grab them. “May I?

“Yes, big guy, go for it. Oh, I didn’t want to call you that anymore,” Tony said truthfully, but he still tried to hide his sentiment.

“You may gladly address me as Thor Odinson. Or just Thor is fine, too.”

“Actually, I thought of something like Pikachu or so,” Tony joked and threw a lazy arm around his godly companion, and Bruce almost choked on his soda. “What does Pikachu mean?” Thor asked, and Steve leaned back, glad that he wasn’t the one asking. “Pikachu is a strong warrior of many battles and an icon to a lot of humans,” Tony smiled. “And he has electric powers, just like you.”

Thor grinned proudly. “I will gladly accept this nickname then.”

“It sounds like ‘peek-at-you’,” Steve said, but Tony quickly changed the topic. While wiping his hands to make it seem more casual, he asked about the idea of an Avengers Tower.


	2. Tea Time

Thor had developed a fascination with Midgardian customs, and he liked hanging out on Earth. Back home in Asgard, everything was grand and big, but on Earth, people seemed to cherish the small things. It was quite educational. The God of Thunder had a special fondness for small in-between meals. Like tea-time. (The real meals were too small to satisfy a god’s hunger.)

“There is a place in Brooklyn that I would love to go with you,” Thor proclaimed happily. Steve’s blue eyes sparkled when he heard that. “Brooklyn is a nice,” he smiled. “Where would you like to go? I could show you around, if you like.”

“Brooklyn is Steve’s hometown,” Natasha explained as she played with a spoon. “This is fortunate,” said Thor, “because I found just the place to go with you guys.”

 

“This is a joke, right?” Clint whispered. All six sat around a tiny – tiny – table with a lace doily, in a brick row house café in downtown Brooklyn. Steve was smiling brightly, but everyone else seemed less happy about the little space they had, shoulders squished and heads ducked. There was soft Motown music playing in the background.

“This is very charming,” Steve beamed. He had dressed in his best shirt, and he had used shoe polish.

“A bit crowded,” Tony noted, and the waitress said that even more customers would arrive in the afternoon. Brue flinched when the one of the indoor plant’s gigantic leaves tickled his ear. “It’s s-small,” he said, fumbling with the leaf. “I like it.”

“The smell makes me all nostalgic,” Steve smiled and looked around.

Soon, their orders arrived. The tea cups were old-fashioned and cute, but also very small. In Thor’s big hands, they looked ridiculously tiny, but the Asgardian really enjoyed it.

“This vegan Swedish apple pie is a dream come true,” Natasha said. Clint wordlessly asked for a bit and tried it. Silently, he nodded in approvement and continued nibbling on his oat cookie. Steve emptied one cup of coffee after another. He was unusually excited. Was it the donuts?

The sound of Thor, God of Thunder, sipping his tea made Tony laugh in delight. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?”

“I do,” said Thor and put down the tiny cup, chinking. There was barely space for his big arms (he sat next to Bruce), but the giant didn’t seem to mind.

“Is this tea better than the stuff you had in Calcutta?” Natasha asked Bruce.

“Darjeeling does taste different in Brooklyn,” Bruce answered, smiling sheepishly, which made Thor laugh out loudly and gave him a great opportunity to use one of the new words he had learned: “Banner, you are one cutiepie!” He learned to not speak about the green monster, as it made the man uncomfortable, but he couldn’t deny his human form was incredibly endearing, albeit rather weak. Around him, Thor was careful to not be rude, which also meant not wearing green when he dressed in Midgardian clothes.

Bruce muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to Thor, as Steve ordered another coffee and complimented the waitress on the lovely café. She smiled (“I’m happy you like it, Captain!”), and when she brought the new tablet, she asked if she could take a picture of New York’s heroes. Everyone flashed their brightest smiles.

When it came to paying, Tony preempted Steve and gave about twice the money on the bill, to give to the café. However, as she was a fan of Captain America, Steve signed a paper napkin for the waitress in addition. Thor asked him why he did that. “Oh, y’know, she said she was a fan.”

“A fan,” Thor repeated. “So, she looks up to you?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘look up’…”

“Your smile tells me something different, my friend,” Thor said and grinned. “I will take you here more often.”

“Oh,” said Steve, “don’t, please. No need to. And I know you’re busy up in space.”

“Well, this is true, but, err… hey, it’s a pleasure. Consider it a friendly turn.” Thor flashed him a smile, and Steve returned it, shaking his head.

This would be fun! Thor was happy to visit Midgard once in a while, and especially his fellow battle comrades.


	3. Fancy Indian Restaurant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here for emotional Bruce Banner, and you?

“Why don’t you show us that Indian place you told me about?” Natasha asked Bruce. “What? Oh, err, but why?” Bruce fumbled with his hands. Natasha leaned back into her chair. “I thought it might be nice to eat out, since we’re all together,” she said.

“So, you have a favorite joint?” Tony asked and jolted closer to Bruce, who nodded. “I do. It’s really nice. But I guess you could probably fly us to India in no time, so…”

“While that is true,” Tony interrupted him, “I do think that we should go to your favorite place. I mean, Thor took us to that Brooklyn café, and that was pretty natty, wasn’t it? It’s your turn now.”

“My turn, huh,” said Bruce and looked around. The others nodded at him encouragingly.

The ‘Bombay Curry’ was located in Upper West Side, near Central Park. It had candles on the tables, and it was spacious and fancy. So fancy that Bruce cringed at his old jacket. He should have washed it before.

Tony felt just like home. It even seemed he knew some of the staff, he greeted them suavely. It smelled of curry and tomatoes and all kind of different spices that they couldn’t name. When they sat down, Bruce smiled sheepishly, and Natasha leaned forward to tell him that he had good taste in restaurants. “Wait ‘til you had the chicken curry, it’s ingenious,” Bruce smiled. Then he turned to Tony, who sat on his right, and said, “I recommend the garlic naan, Tony. I bet you like those.”

“No garlic, please,” Steve uttered under his breath, and Tony at him irritated, but Thor was eager to ask Bruce for a recommendation as well.

“Oh, I don’t know… Have you ever tried roast duck?” Bruce asked.

“A duck? No?” Thor laughed. “I’ll have something bigger, I’m hungry. Don’t they serve beef in here?”

“Oh god,” said Clint and hid behind the menu. “They don’t,” Tony said, “cows are holy ‘n stuff.”

“I see,” Thor said and leaned back again, looking at his suit coat. He felt very high-brow in this. Tony fished for his phone. “By the way, have I told you about Pepper’s new sari? I bought one for her promo tour in South East Asia, I gotta show you some pictures, she looks amazing.”

They had a nice evening. As an appetizer, the restaurant served pakora and shrimp cocktails, and everyone ordered different things to let the others try. Thor had ordered two mango chickens, and Steve sighed as Tony bit a big junk off his garlic naan.

Bruce felt his eyes water when he smelled his favorite Shahi Paneer. How long has it been since he last tasted that?

“Aww, look at that, he’s getting all emotional,” Clint noticed. “I’m not,” Bruce protested, but then he breathed in to say how much it meant to him that they sat together like this. “It’s been a long time since I’ve socialized this way.”

“Man, it was totally worth it,” Clint said. “Not only this chicken, I mean,” he added. “I mean all of this here,” – Tony interposed he’d had too much beer by now – “I’m so damn glad to eat out with you.”

“Well said,” Bruce sniffed. Thor came down to hug him as the scientist brushed away a tear. The light of the table’s candles blurred, and now he felt both of Thor’s arms tight around him, and Clint’s hand rubbing his thigh. “It’s okay, man, let it all out, it’s just between the six of us,” Clint grinned. He seemed strangely delighted with Bruce’s sudden outburst of emotions. “Thanks,” Bruce sniffed from in-between Thor’s arms.

“You have been gone for too long,” said Tony, and Bruce knew he was right. Brazil, Canada, Calcutta… New York may have triggered solely negative memories before, but now he had something here to grant him comfort and happiness. These were the people that understood him and stuck with him, despite the green guy’s constant menace.

Eventually Thor let go of him, and Bruce could breathe again. “Man,” said Clint, “that chicken is so damn good, I’mma-“

“Barton, please,” Steve cautioned him, but the others just laughed. They ended the evening with three bottles of champagne. It was good, Bruce thought. It was fine.


	4. Burgers

“Our visit in our doctor’s favorite place had reminded me of a real cool joint that’s actually not that far from here,” Clint said. He played cards with Steve and Tony, and he was about to win. His mentioning of the best burger grill in all of New York City had been directed towards his friend, who just entered the room. “Yo, Tasha, are you listening?” he asked with his head over the sofa’s backrest.

“I am.” She opened the fridge to get herself some juice. “Wanna go there?”

“Another joint dinner?” Tony asked.

“Why not? So far, it had been great fun,” Steve said and played another card.

“Fun for the waitresses,” Tony joked, but Clint was eager to keep the conversation straight: “Yeah, listen, we should definitely convince our Pokémon to come along, they serve triple beef burgers.”

“That’ll be enough to convince him,” Tony smiled. He would be right.

The burger grill Clint talked about was called ‘Lucky Hans’, and it was located on 42nd Street. It was very hip and blasted techno music all over the place. “I didn’t know you liked this kind of places,” Bruce said.

“Is it too loud for you?” Natasha asked, her face worried. “I’ll be alright,” Bruce smiled and stepped forward to assert his certainty. “A table for six, please,” he said. The waiter sported a long beard and black earrings, and he recognized the group. “Jesus Christ, it’s the whole squad! Guys, you’ll get everything for free.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tony said and winked at him, and the guy was head over heels.

When they had sat down, he asked everyone about drinks, and Clint ordered cocktails for everyone. Each had a strange German name, and he had great trouble pronouncing them, but the waiter knew exactly which ones he meant. “You’ll love them, I guarantee you. I’ve never had something in this place that wasn’t effin’ delicious.”

“I feel that is an overstatement,” said Tony as he studied the menu. “Among others, they serve patties made of grasshoppers.”

“They what?” Steve asked over the music, but then waiter brought their cocktails and shot a selfie of him and the gang, so everyone had to sit up straight.

Thor had quickly decided on a triple beef burger with hay milk cheese and caramelized onions, as Clint had recommended. Everyone else had more trouble choosing. All burgers had obscure German names and sauces like guacamole and fig marmalade. “Man, I don’t even fucking know,” Clint laughed, “they all taste amazing.”

“You can order the classic one if the rest is too fancy for you,” Natasha said to Tony. She had been here with Clint a few times and found everything to be just as tasty as Clint had said, there was no exaggeration on his behalf. She smiled at him. It was rare to see him so talkative.

“The avocado burger sounds super-tasty,” Bruce said, “I’ll take that one.”

“This one with bacon does, too,” Steve noted and attempted to pronounce the name, at which everyone had a good laugh.

Natasha sipped her strawberry cocktail, ‘Schmaus’. It was her fave, Clint knew that. When they eventually got their ordered burgers, he would knowingly look at her over his glass as they observed the others’ reactions. Everyone was delighted, as expected (Steve was especially fond of the crafted fries and the different sauces). But no one was quite as happy about their burger as Clint was. This place had always been his secret escape, where he would get some food, undercover. He had felt a great feeling of company when he had first brought Tasha with him, but now this feeling seemed to have multiplied.

“Hey,” he then heard her voice, “dreamy-eyes.”

“Hm?” he hummed, a fry in his mouth.

Natasha grinned and raised her glass. “Cheers.”

Everyone followed. “Cheers.”


	5. Pizza Parlor

“Okay, so by now, almost everyone has chosen a place to eat,” Tony summed up. “Only two left.”

Steve backed away. “I don’t know any places to eat.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes, smiling. “Liar. You do. You’ve been to many places in Brooklyn.”

“It’s nothing,” Steve said and scratched his head, but no one seemed to buy it.

“I know a place,” Natasha said eventually, and she was surprised to sound like she was confessing, but suddenly, all eyes were on her. “It’s… just a tiny pizza parlor, down in Queens. Nothing special.”

“Are you kidding?” Clint chimed in back from the sofa. “That place is awesome. Guys, let’s go there.”

In the evening, Tony drove them to Queens in one of his limousines. The neighborhood looked shabby, but Natasha seemed to enjoy the atmosphere. She greeted the owner of the dark parlor by his first name, and he kissed her on the cheeks. The place was small, but there was a vacant table inside. They sat down in silence and ordered their drinks. Then there was more smiles and silence.

Surprisingly, it was Bruce who broke it: “What’s up, Natasha? It’s lovely.”

Natasha smiled to her folded hands. “It’s no 42nd Street.”

“I like it,” Thor said, as if his opinion was the definite one. He smiled at her encouragingly. Then she noticed Steve looking at a black and white photo on the wall.

“That’s my nonno,” the owner explained when he came to bring the drinks, “my grandfather. That picture was taken back when he opened this place.”

“Wow, so it’s family business in third generation,” Tony said. “Five, if you count Italy in,” the owner laughed. He had a kind face. Steve thought for a moment. “Sir, your name is Antonio Ricci, right?”

The owner nodded. “Yes, I was named after my nonno.”

Steve just smiled at that answer. When Antonio was gone, Natasha leaned forward to whisper to him, “Don’t tell me you knew his grandfather!” Steve laughed silently. Yes, he did. Toni Ricci had been among his peers back in the thirties. But the acquaintanceship had fizzled out once the war had begun. And soon after, he had gone frozen… His gaze finally got away from the photo.

“I have seen this kind of food before,” Thor said happily. “I like the ones with the fruits on it, the pineapple pieces.”

“You are gross and I won’t talk to you anymore,” Clint said through gritted teeth.

“Why? It was good.”

“You shouldn’t talk like that, Mister,” Natasha teased Clint, “when I know you will order the one with shrimps and garlic.”

“And took us to a grasshopper burger grill,” Tony added.

“That’s different,” Clint complained. And suddenly, everyone was arguing about pizza toppings (only Bruce said back and made sure to practice the pronunciation of ‘quattro stagioni’).

The pizza came in no time. Brick-oven-baked. While they ate and listened to the radio that played silently in the parlor, Natasha realized there was no need to feel ashamed for liking cheesy and fatty pizza in rustic neighborhood joints down in Queens. She felt childish for ever thinking like this, even though her profession could give the false impression. But these were her friends, after all, they wouldn’t judge her.

As Thor struggled with a particularly stubborn string of cheese, Natasha eyed Steve and how he didn’t seem to have real appetite. Figures. He had known this guy’s grandfather in person, and now he was sitting here, almost eighty years later, eating a pizza as if it was the most normal thing for him to do. Of course he felt strange.

 

“Hey,” Natasha said when they were about to leave, “do you wanna talk?”

Steve looked at her, but he knew he couldn’t possibly fool her, so he didn’t say anything. The stood in the cold, Queens’ lights shining on the wet streets.

“Bruce ate half of your pizza, so there must be something,” Natasha said, trying a laugh, but Steve just smiled weakly and told her he would take the train back to the Tower. He wanted to stay a little longer and talk to Mister Ricci. “Alright,” she said and turned to get in Tony’s car. She turned around a last time to wish Steve a good night. He shook his head, smiling and wished her the same. Then he went back into the parlor, his tall stature carefully opening the wooden door and closing it behind him.

Natasha smiled. It had been good to bring him here, to bring everyone here. She felt the unusual comfort of acceptance warm her face.


	6. Pancakes

Living in the Tower as one big family did have its advantages. It had happened, just like that. Bruce and Tony could work here, Clint and Nat were safe and could stay in touch with Fury, and Thor just liked hanging out with his friends on Earth. He didn’t really know many humans beside the Avengers after all, so he had started living here, too.

The question was: What was Steve doing here?

Flats in Brooklyn were too expensive. But was that really an excuse? If he wanted to stay here, he had to work for it, he told himself.

“So, Cap, what’s it gonna be?” Tony asked him one day when they were all sitting around the big table. Steve had thought long about this, and so, for their little game they had going on, he decided to not go out, but make food at home. Precisely, pancakes, because that was a thing he could do.

“Pancakes,” Tony repeated, disappointment all over his face. “Are you kidding, man? Pancakes are great,” Bruce smiled.

Thor volunteered to help Steve get the ingrediencies. “I have never been to a grocery store,” he marveled. “You get used to it, after a while,” Steve said. “Back in the old days, we didn’t have self-service. The milkman would bring milk and eggs, and everything else you could get at a mom-and-pop shop down the street.”

“Mom and pop?” Thor asked as Steve put the milk cartons into the cart.

“Not _my_ mom and pop. It’s an expression.”

“I knew that,” the god smiled unsurely. Then he came closer to Steve and made sure no one was looking at the tall blonds. “You know, Rogers, with you I can ask those question. I don’t feel like a fool when I’m with you.”

“Why, because I’m the bigger fool?” Steve joked through his undercover sunglasses.

“Could be,” Thor said, deadpan. Then he turned as if something had come to his mind. “No, it’s different. When I’m with you, I don’t feel like it is an infamy to be a fool at all.”

Steve laughed at that. “Well, I think that’s a good thing. Anyway. Let’s go look for the sirup.”

 

They went home, where Steve prepared the kitchen and went trough his mom’s pancake recipe in his head. Those were the best. The others had already sat down at the table behind the kitchen counter, because Steve insisted on doing this alone. “Will Captain America be able the serve a decent pancake?” Clint asked dramatically, but Thor didn’t get the irony and said that he had no doubt Steve could do it. Steve thanked him nonetheless, and then he tried to understand the super modern range.

Somewhere down the line, Tony came to help him with it. Later Bruce joined them for the eggs. “I can separate the white and the yellow, it’s no big deal,” Steve assured him, but Bruce did have a steadier hand than he had. Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint had dug out Tony’s old ice machine. They used some of the berries that Steve had originally bought to decorate the pancakes, and they tried to make them ice cream.

Eventually, everyone was covered in something – flour, milk, ice powder – and dinner was served. Tony had opened a bottle of wine, and as they ate, they looked over nightly New York.

“They’re good,” Natasha praised Steve, and he smiled. He was at least a little bit proud that nothing had scorched. He sipped his water and looked outside the windowed wall. New York City will always look breathtaking, he thought. His hometown. The city they had rescued, as a team. Suddenly, everything seemed so normal again.

“That was good,” Bruce said next to him and fell back into his chair, contently. “We should cook together more often.”

“We can try peanut butter sandwiches next time,” Tony teased, flour on his face, but he looked at Steve fondly while speaking on, “or whatever Cap wants to try next.”

“I think self-made pizza would be a great start. I think we all like pizza, don’t we? Burgers are also easy to make. We have a lot of great food to choose from,” Steve said. He then stood up to get the ice cream from the box, but when he came back, the others suggested eating it in front of the window.

And so, they stood there, in their superhero tower, watching New York City lights pass by and stars arise, spoons chinking. And Steve realized that coming to terms with modern times was way easier, even _fun_ , with friends like these, with ones that that understood and accepted him as a normal person, even though they couldn’t possibly comprehend what he was going through.

He shoved all of these thoughts aside by shaking his head, and turned to get everyone a second round of ice cream.


End file.
